


Spirit of the Jungle

by AmberZ10



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Harley Quinn (Comics), Poison Ivy (Comics), The Legend of Tarzan (2016)
Genre: F/F, Inspired by Tarzan, Oneshot, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-02-23 06:25:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13184232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberZ10/pseuds/AmberZ10
Summary: Harley lives to tell the tale





	1. Chapter 1

Harley grimaced when her stomach growled. She knew she shouldn’t have had two cans of green beans last night, as that meant nothing to feed her hungry body tonight. She’d been running low on supplies for a while now, but that had truly been the last of it. Harley had spent nearly the entire day scouring abandoned grocery stores…gas stations…anywhere that might have a morsel of something to sustain her, but it was gone. She could say that with some certainty now. Her world no longer belonged to humans.

As the darkness closed in, and the night got cold, Harley realized hunger wasn’t her only problem—certainly not the most pressing one. Her search had taken her to the outskirts of the city center, where the forest encroached.

The treetops spanned buildings, the roots of the jungle had buried themselves deep below the pavement, tearing it apart, terraforming the city, covering every lamp post in vines and sidewalk in moss. The humans had retained only a small patch of Gotham to call their own, and that shrunk every day, as the flowers crept further, and the trees loomed larger.

Animals lived in those woods. Not house pets that had run away from home after the bombs dropped, but real, wild animals. Ones who had no business even being on this continent. Worse than the animals, though, worse than the cackling hyenas and the screaming gorillas, were the spirits that lived among those trees, well…one spirit. They say that she exists in the braches that humans can’t reach. Her feet never touch the forest floor, instead, she swings like a monkey, guarding the fruit that could sustain the starving people.

Then again, Harley doubted anything could sustain them for long. This was the only world Harley had ever known. She was born only 6 months before the first bomb dropped. Her parents said she was a miracle, as most Gotham City residents died the moment it first hit, didn’t even survive long enough to live through the second one. But she was still here. Her parents weren’t, and neither was her brother, but Harley was. She wondered if the 21 year olds in generations before her had spent their days sleeping in abandoned store fronts, calling canned green beans a meal and running from literal wolves. She doubted it. Maybe they’d behaved more like Jay. Maybe that’s why the world had been ruined for the rest of them.

Harley remembered the rubble, though, and the smoke and the looting…she supposed the jungle was an improvement. And there was nothing to steal anymore, so the streets were quieter. Still, though, it wasn’t wise to sleep uncovered. The humans that were left could be just as dangerous, and even more desperate, than the animals. The fact that guns were the only resource plentiful enough to go around didn’t help.

Harley had a gun, and she was good with it, but that didn’t matter when you were sleeping. Even the quickest draw wasn’t going to wake up if someone got the drop on them. Worse than that, it was December, and Gotham City Decembers weren’t exactly kind to its residents.

It was warmer in the forest, and if she climbed a tree, slept off of the ground, no animal would bother her, aside from a gorilla, maybe…or the spirit.

Ok, but look, here’s the thing about that spirit; no one had ever survived long enough in the forest to prove she even really existed. Harley’s father had said she was just a story, made up to keep children away from the woods, as kids were less scared of animals than they ought to be. Harley wasn’t totally sure what she thought. All she knew was she was hungry and cold, and from her position she could see a branch so covered with moss she might even describe it as “cozy”.

Besides that, she was probably going to die anyway. A person could only go so long without food.

“Fuck,” Harley breathed out, adjusting her bag on her shoulder, letting her fate sit heavy in her bones.

 _Here goes nothing_.

The branch was a little less cozy than it looked, but it beat the glass covered floor of a crumbling Best Buy. That was kinda a low bar, but whatever.

Harley closed her eyes, the sound of her own pulse thrumming in her ears drowning out the whines and roars of the animals in the distance.

_There are no such things as spirits. There are no such thing as spirits. There is are such thing as…spirits…_

Her eyes shot open at the snapping of a twig, and she found she’d slept all the way through the night. It had been a while since that’d happened….

But realizations about improvements to her sleep pattern could come later. There was someone here...she could feel them…

A shadow danced at the end of the branch, and Harley jumped up to her feet, her chest pounding. She reached for her gun, but that was gone. Taken.

And Harley was pinned, she realized. Whatever had been watching her, whatever had taken her gun, would be able to move a lot more efficiently through the treetops than she could, and she doubted dropping down to the forest floor would be any safer.

Harley had mostly survived this long by accident. Through sheer luck and bravery rooted more in stupidity than any true strategy. So she decided she would deal with this situation the Harley way.

“I know you took my gun!” she called out, her high voice ringing through the forest, cutting the stillness that surrounded her like a sharp knife in a shaky hand. “My father was a professor before the bombs came, so I don’t believe in spirits. I know you’re just a stupid monkey.”

The leaves before her didn’t shake. Nothing moved.

…until a chill began to run down Harley’s spine, starting in the small hairs at the base of her skull and descending until her posture was uncomfortably straight. She barely breathed, and whatever was hanging upside down behind her didn’t make a sound either.

_3…2…1…_

Harley whipped around to face it, expecting to meet the face of an ape…but instead finding a woman. Though not like any woman Harley had ever seen.

This one had green skin, the same color as the foliage that surrounded her, and red hair matted in dreadlocks to her head. But her eyes were what Harley found most concerning. Their green was iridescent, glowing, even in the light of early morning. Oh, and she was naked. Like…super naked. On the bottom half, anyway. Her breasts were bound to her chest with a few vines, Harley guessed so they wouldn’t flop down in front of her face when she hung like that. They weren’t exactly small breasts, you see.

“You’re, umm, welcome to have me—have it! The gun,” Harley faltered. “I have other ones stored in the city if you, uh…mhm…” she just nodded awkwardly, finding the green woman was still closely examining her.

Her head was tilted curiously, and her eyes roamed Harley’s body, not exactly predatory, but certainly…interested.

“Can you talk?” Harley asked as the silence stretched.

The woman didn’t respond verbally, not that Harley really expected her to. She did, however, wave her hand in the air, and with the motion, the vines wrapped around her legs seemed to obey her, moving of their own accord and setting her upright on her feet only a few inches in front of Harley.

She was impressive, like, physically. Beneath her skin were ropes of muscles, each flexing with her subtle movements. And her face, although green, was rather beautiful, Harley realized. Besides that, it turned out the vines that had been binding her breasts were an extension of ones she'd been hanging from, so as they twisted away from her feet, her chest was left bare as well. 

“Oh, hi,” Harley stammered, looking straight up in the air, as she did not trust herself to only look at the woman’s face. “I’m Harley, that’s my name, typically people introduce themselves before—,”

She stopped when the woman extended her arm, brushing her hand over Harley’s face.

“You must know that this is, um, very peculiar,” Harley forced out as the woman grabbed hold of her hair, moving forward to sniff at her. “My father’s dead, but I’m still not sure he’d—uh—find this very appropriate.”

The woman had leaned into her neck, now sniffing down the column of her throat.

“Um, em, excuse me—,” her breath caught as the woman moved to her chest, sinking slowly down onto her knees as her nose continued its exploration. “That’s a little low, that’s a little—hey!” Harley shoved the woman away when her face pressed between her legs. “Oh, I don’t think so, plant lady!”

The woman stumbled backwards, a noticeable degree of fear in her eyes. And before Harley could stop her, she had a vine wrapped around her arm and was swinging to the next tree, making quick time away from Harley.

“No, wait!” Harley shouted after her.

But she’d already disappeared into the shadows of the forest.

Utterly confused, Harley remained on her branch, still staring in the direction the woman had left. She didn’t know much about spirits, but she definitely didn’t think they could touch you, let alone sniff you.

Deciding to get out of there before the woman came back angrier, Harley picked up her bag…. noticing it was now much heavier.

Puzzled, she took it off her shoulder, zipping open the top to find it was filled with mangoes.

 _What in the world_ ….

She cupped her hands around her mouth, hoping the woman hadn’t gone too far yet. “Thank you!”


	2. Chapter 2

 The mangoes lasted her a week. Could have been longer if she’d had any other food to supplement her diet. But nope, she was surviving off mangoes alone. Two a day for a week, and then they were gone, along with about 5lbs of the weight Harley was desperately trying to hold onto.

Her father had always highlighted the importance of being physically strong. That way, if someone ever got the jump on you, or if you ever crossed paths with an animal, you at least had a fighting chance. Harley was frail now. Weak. She couldn’t run as fast or jump as high as she used to. She doubted she could even climb a tree at this point.

All of these things scared Harley. In a dog-eat-dog world, she felt she would soon be someone’s dinner. So that night, instead of remaining with her kind, tucking herself in her sleeping bag, hiding away in the corner of that crumbling Best Buy, she decided to venture back to the forest.

Why? Because Harley was hungry. And…maybe a little curious. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the plant woman she’d encountered. That green skin and those eyes that bored right into you….she was the strangest sight Harley had ever laid eyes on, and at the same time, the most entrancing. Moreover, Harley had a lot of questions for her, questions that she’d been too stunned to ask the last time they’d met. Most importantly, Harley wanted to know if she actually was a spirit. The ghost of some woman who had lived before. Or if she was a creation of the forest. A new kind of animal that the humans weren’t ready for, that Darwin himself hadn’t even foreseen. Harley was on the brink of a scientific discovery.

…either that or she was going to die.

She was honestly pretty fine with either. Jay had been swallowed up by the forest a long time ago, and Selina had abandoned her, ran to the bunker with her tail between her legs and Bruce’s hand held firmly in hers.

So Harley would brave the forest, as she had nothing to really live for, and had never had anything to die for besides circumstance.

It was early evening when she stepped past the first line of trees. The sun would be setting soon, but there was still a bit of daylight left to catch a glimpse of the plant woman, if she decided to show herself, that is. Harley had no way of knowing if she would, but she’d definitely seemed _interested_ last time.

“Hey, uh, Planty?” she called out, though the trees seemed to absorb the sound. “I just wanted to say ‘thanks’ for the mangoes…that was real sweet a’ya.”

There was no response. And this time, there was no chill running down Harley’s spine either. So she pressed on, her steps quiet, hushed by the grass below her feet.

“Listen, you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to, but….” Her heart suddenly raced faster at the sound of leaves rustling just passed the bushes in front of her. “Do you have a name?”

No response.

“Because mine’s Harley…think I already told you that, though.” She pushed the bushes aside and stepped into a clearing—that she immediately thought to run from.

The green woman wasn’t waiting for her. Whatever she was looking at was more of an abomination than anything Harley could have imagined the “spirit” to be.

This was a plant, with a head the size of Harley’s torso and teeth like a sabretooth tiger. It salivated, looking at her without eyes.

“Fuck.”

It roared like the monster it was, its stem wriggling like the body of a snake, ready to strike.

And then, all at once, it’s mouth snapped shut and it retracted, laying its head on the ground like a puppy who’d been shamed.

Harley blinked, too confused to forget her fear. She spun around when a twig snapped behind her, and was again met with the face of the green woman. But this time she was right-side-up. Harley wasn’t sure if she was angry or scared, but she was moving her arms wildly, seemingly in practiced patterns.

Harley just stood there, too dumbfounded to move or react. Two seconds ago she was sure she was going to be painfully digested in the stomach of a giant plant, and now she was being…yelled at? By the spirit’s hands.

_Oh!_

“Are you—is that sign language? Are you deaf?”

She responded with another flurry of movements.

…none of which Harley understood.

When that became clear to the plant lady, she slammed her hands down to her sides in frustration, then closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before she said, “No.”

Harley knew it was rude to think, but she sounded deaf. Her voice was thick and deep and…abnormal. Not in a bad way, just in a…different way. A deaf way. _God, I hope she can’t read my thoughts._

The green woman tapped her ear and shook her head, and then her temple. After that, she pointed to the plant she’d just tamed, and then at the green that surrounded them. Her finger then tapped at her temple again.

“I…hear…” she said, her statement carrying a certain finality to it.

Harley thought, _maybe_ she was following. Her forehead wrinkled and eyes squinted in contemplation when she said, “Through the plants, not your ears.”

The woman’s eyes lit up—literally, glowing brighter, suddenly filled with a certain ‘hope’.

…and then she immediately went back to speaking with her hands, so clearly there was still a language barrier.

“I’m sorry, I don’t sign,” Harley apologized. “I know English, that’s about it. Are you from here? is your English fluent?”

The plant woman rolled her eyes. Seriously.

…and then signed again.

_Goddamn it._

“Did you save me from the plant?” Harley decided to ask, pointing to the monster who’d seemingly retreated.

The plant woman stopped her signing, once again to simply stare at Harley.

_Maybe she’s stupid or something. Maybe her plant brain isn’t as evolved._

Harley attempted a simpler question. “Do you remember me?”

Sighing like this game was beneath her, Planty raised her hand, signing a very slow “H”, followed by an “A”, an “R”, and an “L”. That, Harley was able to understand. Everybody knew at least a few letters of sign, especially in a world where it wasn’t always safe to talk.

“Well you don’t gotta have an attitude about it,” Harley huffed, sticking her hands on her hips. “Do you have a name, or do you like ‘Planty’?”

Planty simply shook her head, though not exactly like she was saying “no”, more like she wasn’t sure why she was even engaging in this conversation. Even without words, Harley was starting to get offended.

“Look, lady, I just wanted to thank you for the mangoes, alright? That’s i—,”

The woman walked away before Harley could finish her sentence. Just…walked away, leaving Harley alone in the clearing.

“Hey! What gives?!” Harley demanded. “First you sniff me without first buying me a drink, and now you’re not even listening? Who raised you?!”

Planty had stopped just outside the clearing, looking blankly back at Harley. She didn’t sign, she didn’t move. Just waited.

“Where are you going?”

The green woman simply raised an expectant eyebrow.

“Oh, do you—should I follow you?”

Without another word, Planty turned away from her, forging further into the forest with no trail.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey, Harl, what if—and hear me out—what if you didn’t follow the strange green woman deeper into the forest? The forest that no one comes out of after they enter. Has the engrained human impulse to preserve oneself escaped you?_

Harley kept pace behind the spirit, who, again, didn’t really seem like a spirit at all, at this point. She supposed “creature” would be a better description. A creature with overtly human—overtly feminine features.

 _Boobs_.

_Stop it, Harley. Honestly._

She hadn’t spoken a word throughout their entire journey. Or...signed. But no! She could speak! It’s not like Harley was expecting some rousing conversation, but the silence was beginning to stretch, and as it did, Harley realized for what had to be at least the 10th time that she could more than likely be marching to her death.

So she decided to initiate.

“Uh, so—uh,”

Planty didn’t react.

“Were you born in the forest?”

The green woman took a few more silent steps before shaking her head.

Harley blinked in surprise, both at the answer and at the fact she got one. “So then…where are you from?”

“You wouldn’t know it.”

Harley had to stop from jumping at the sound of the woman’s voice.

Then she signed something Harley couldn’t understand and Harley was behind again.

“Was it…in the old world?” Harley ventured. “Before the bombs?”

Planty nodded, and as she did, a vine slithered off a tree branch and seemed to greet her, its face a flower. Harley didn’t quite have enough time to process that before the woman was pulling back a sheet of ivy and leading Harley into another clearing. Though this one…. this one wasn’t made completely by nature. This felt lived in, somehow.

“Is this—uh.” Harley furrowed her brow, racking her brain to remember. “Oh! Um.” Then she sloppily signed “home”, as best as she could remember.

That’s when the green woman smiled.

Yes.

Really.

She smiled.

An entirely human smile.

Then she nodded and repeated the sign.

“Home,” Harley smiled back, perhaps despite herself. She had a lot more questions that needed answering, though. “Are you human?”

Finally, Harley seemed to have stumped her, because Planty’s stance changed then, lost a bit of its confidence. Not like she was embarrassed or anything, more just thinking, reflecting. Her green eyes squinted, her nose wrinkling ever so slightly.

“Or… _were_ you? Maybe?” Harley prompted. “I know the bombs did weird things to some people. I just didn’t know that…I mean…you’re…”

“Other.” The woman spoke.

“Other,” Harley agreed.

Planty looked at her again. Studying her, not unlike she had on their first meeting, just without the inappropriate smelling. She seemed to be sizing her up, watching her like an animal would. Learning from her posture and her expression. Reading her body language.

Finally, she broke her gaze, forfeiting the staring contest Harley had unknowingly participated in. She left Harley standing there, crossing over to a tree at the outer edge of the clearing. Without instruction, Harley seemed to understand she was to stay put. So she did. Waiting as the woman reached into a hole at the base of the tree and retrieved what looked like…a wallet?

Returning to her, Planty held the worn leather at her side, then offered it in an outstretched hand to Harley.

Tentatively, the blonde took it, her fingers shaking, though she wasn’t totally sure why. Out of all the things she’d seen that day, an old wallet was far from the most frightening. Still, though, her heart sped up in her chest now that she held it in her hand.

Planty was watching her expectantly. Perhaps excitedly, or at least with significant interest.

 _“Look”._ Harley could almost hear the woman’s voice slithering in through her ear.  

So she did.

There were a few dollars inside—the outdated paper currency Harley had only seen framed on the walls of boarded up restaurants.

A debit card, which had been impossible to use for some time. No power meant no electronic cards.

What really caught Harley’s eye, though, was the state of New Jersey driver’s license. A pretty redhead smiled up at her from the photograph.

 _Oh_.

_Isley, Pamela Lillian_

Her skin was a pale peach color, her face dotted with freckles, and her hair cascaded elegantly down her shoulders. A stark contrast to the green, dreadlocked woman she saw before her.

But it was the same woman.

“You were out here when the bombs dropped, weren’t you?” Harley realized.

“Studying.”

 _Studying._ “And they made you this?”

“This?” Pamela repeated, her incredulity obvious even with her strange voice. “ _This_ is how I survived.” She signed the words she’d just spoken. “Evolution came fast.”

There was one more thing in the wallet.

A photograph.

Harley frowned at the blonde pictured smiling next to the once human Pamela. She was wearing what looked like a tourist safari hat in what Harley hoped was a joke. Turning the photo around, she found the words “Pam & Barbara, 2015” written in rather matter-of-fact print.

“And what happened to her?” Harley asked, holding the picture up for the creature before her to recognize.

“It came too fast.”


End file.
